


The Boy Made Out of Stars

by MapleleafCameo



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, Drug Use, Fairy Tale Elements, Loneliness, M/M, Magical Realism, Suicidal Thoughts, major character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9199757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleleafCameo/pseuds/MapleleafCameo
Summary: Jack meets a boy made out of stars.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Steve. Always and always.
> 
> Based on characters created by [Ngozi](http://ngoziu.tumblr.com) for the marvelous web comic [Check, Please!](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com).

The night sky, black and velvety, held the stars tightly clustered, diamonds, rubies, emeralds, scattered so thick Jack felt he could reach up and they would tip into his outstretched hand. His grandfather pointed out constellations, showed him how to tell the difference between a planet and a star and took him out every clear night the summer he stayed at the cottage.

The stars seemed to wink at him, friendly and cheerful. Jack would lie on his back in the meadow, tracing the constellations with his finger, naming them keeping their secrets in his heart. 

Jack loved his grandparents, and he loved the cottage, but it could be lonely. There were no other children close by to play with and his grandparents while not old in the scheme of things were set in their ways. He had earlier bedtimes than at home, and there was no television. An extensive collection of board games, puzzles and books and old sand toys that had been used by his mother when she was little, kept him mostly entertained. 

But he did wish someone lived nearby to play with, share secrets and explore the woods and the nearby beach. Every night, when he saw the first star of the evening, Jack would wish for a friend.

Several weeks into the visit, he caught a cold, not a bad one but enough to make him miserable and it kept him in bed, bored and restless. An empty bowl of chicken soup on the floor by his bed, a collection of half-drunk glasses of water, he looked through a few of the books on astronomy his grandfather had lent him, not quite old enough to read most of the science heavy language.

Sighing, he placed the books on the side of the bed, put his hands behind his head and leaned back against the stack of pillows. He could see out into the woods behind the cottage, trees deep and dense, older than time. Through the open window, the call of the birds could be heard; a final chatter of noise before dark descended and night silenced them. A cool breeze blew in, playing with the curtain and helping to make him feel a bit better. He closed his eyes, feeling sleep begin to overtake him.

When he opened them again, he must have dozed a bit, for now almost full night, the sky inky black, purple and green at the edges, deepened the shadows in his room. He stared sullenly out the window.

He was so bored.

Something caught his attention. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes. 

A glimmer of light at the edge of the woods teased. Light, which came and went, sometimes dim, sometimes brighter as though pulsing like the stars in the sky. Jack supposed that someone walked through his grandfather’s woods, maybe with a flashlight or carrying a Coleman lantern, although the light gleamed warmer than either of those. Deep gold, inviting and friendly.

He sat up a bit, went up on his knees to reach for the curtain and drew it to the side so he could see more clearly. His grandfather should know someone trespassed on his property and he was just about to get out of bed and go downstairs to tell him when he heard it, on the wind, soft and warm as the light,

“Jack.”

Jack jumped a bit, startled. He bit his lip and let the curtain twitch back.

“Jack, come on.”

He shook his head, shivering. He must be sicker than he thought.

“Jack, come and play.” He glanced out the window one last time, determined to shut the curtains and pull the covers over his head if he saw anything. But what he did see surprised him and he sat up straighter, leaning toward the window. A boy stood on the edge of the wood, a boy about his age from what he could tell. Because of the dark, he couldn't make out his features clearly, but a soft light glowed all around him. Jack waited for a minute, indecisive. The boy at the woods waved and beckoned to him. 

Making up his mind, he slipped on a sweater and found his running shoes. Maybe here was someone to play with, once he felt better. He could go downstairs, find out who he was and ask him to play. 

Jack snuck down the stairs, his grandparents out of sight, probably in the living room, tiptoed through the kitchen and out the back door. 

The grass, already damp with dew, soaked the edges of his pajama pants. His grandmother would be so angry with him if she found out. And although the dark made it hard to distinguish much, he could see the light the other boy held, and he knew there wasn’t much to trip over between him and the woods. He moved quietly and with confidence, his heart racing at the thought of making a friend. 

He stepped to where the boy stood. Smaller than he, face slightly blurry, obscured by how bright the light appeared. As he came closer, he saw the boy wasn’t holding a lantern or a flashlight. He frowned. The boy didn’t hold any sort of light Jack could see at all.

Jack gasped when he realized.

The boy smiled at him and when he smiled the light brightened, almost too much to bear. Jack held up a hand and squinted. The boy, as impossible as it seemed, didn't need to hold a light. The boy was light. His entire being, eyes, skin, hair, made of tiny little stars, which moved and twinkled, both when he did and independently. His eyes, dark and fathomless, held glimmers and sparkles of galaxies inside them. At first, it made Jack a bit dizzy, but as he became used to it, it seemed normal, and the stars blended, swirling, even cloaking the boy in a set of pj's not unlike his own.

“Well, hello, Jack! How are you? Are you feeling better?” The boy put his hands on his hips and tilted his head to one side. Jack could hear the whisper of space in between the words.

“Umm, I guess. What are you?”

The boy laughed, the lilt of it danced, and Jack smiled. He wanted to make the boy of stars laugh some more; it made him feel so good inside.

“I guess you could say I’m a friend. You wished hard enough on the stars for one, so here I am.”

“What’s your name?”

The boy frowned. “Whatever you want it to be.”

“Umm, I don't know. I’ve never had a friend before.”

“Never? Not even one?”

“Well maybe one, but we had to move a lot and Papa’s so busy all the time with hockey and Maman has her television show.” Jack shrugged. 

The boy stood still, patiently waiting. Jack, with the literalness of children, said, “How about Star?”

Star held out his hand, and Jack took it. Star’s skin tingled and murmured against his palm, warmhearted. He led him into the woods, and they ran and jumped and played tag and hide and seek. Jack found Star time and again, seeing as how difficult it was for him to hide his light. 

Far into the night they played. Sometime after midnight, they lay on their backs, Jack felt peaceful and comfortable, Star lying beside him. Jack lifted his hand and traced the constellations in the sky and named the stars. Star watched him and smiled. 

“Will you be my friend for always?” Jack asked, sleepily.

“Always and always.”

“Will you stay here with me?”

“I can't, but I will always be here,” and Star laid his hand upon Jack’s heart. Where his hand sat, Jack felt warm and safe.

As he started to drift off, he heard Star say, “If you need me, I will come. I will always come. I won't be further away than your heart.”

Jack drifted off, thinking as his eyes closed that he saw a piece of Star drift off and settle on his chest and disappear. Absorbed into the skin just above his heart.

His grandparents found him lying asleep in the grass, an old blanket from the hammock covering him. His grandfather picked him up and carried him into the house. They waited until morning to scold him.

Jack’s cold seemed better in spite of his grandmother’s dire warnings about how he’d catch his death or get pneumonia. He tried to tell them about the new friend he’d made. His grandparents smiled and said he’d been dreaming and perhaps he’d walked in his sleep out to the meadow and the woods. For the rest of the visit, every night he looked out the window when he went to bed, waiting and watching for Star to return, but he never did, and Jack began to wonder if he had indeed dreamt it.

The years passed and hockey became his focus, his obsession and his reason for being. Long nights and early mornings consumed him. Practices out in the backyard where his father had made a homemade rink. He hardly ever looked up at the sky. There was never time. Eventually leaving home billeted with strangers, his teammates the only ones to talk to and the only thing he talked about always hockey. Once, travelling back on a clear winter night, he looked up at the sky and a strange tugging at his heart made him frown. Something reminded him of a boy with pajamas that had stars on them and nights looking at the sky tracing constellations and naming stars. He put his hand on the cold glass and murmured the names to himself, just under his breath, buried but not forgotten.

One day he went away, lived far from home and played hockey passionately and as if his life depended on it. He met a boy, a different boy, whose face and laugh reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t remember. A friendship and a rivalry developed, the two pitted against each other and there was laughter, and a different sort of affection and he fell headlong into ecstasy. But it overwhelmed him, and it threatened to consume his identity and the fear of emptiness and failure that always stayed with him overtook him and he submerged below the weight of everything.

Lying on the bathroom floor, hoping to stop the noises in his head, he blinked, eyelids heavy. It would be so easy to let go, so easy to just sleep and drift. He could just make out the night sky, and in his haze of confusion, it felt like the stars were swirling closer and closer, coming down to earth to be with him. The light from the street pooled on the floor of the bathroom, and they seemed to thicken a bit, seemed to gather and a figure formed there. Older than the last time he saw him, taller, but still wearing pajamas made of stars, Jack’s breath caught. How did he forget? And now just when he’d thrown it all away. 

“Star?” He slurred lips heavy.

“Jack, my Jack. What happened? Shhh, never mind. I’m here.” And a hand, the skin tingling, settled on his brow. “I’ll wait with you until Kenny comes. He’s almost here. It’s not your time to go.” Star’s voice was thick with tears.

“Why didn't you ever come back?” Jack asked, so tired. 

“I did. I’ve always been here. You just needed to ask.” It felt so nice, Star’s hand in his hair. Jack closed his eyes, and as he drifted away, he heard the bathroom door slam open and Kenny’s panicked voice calling his name.

He went away to college after that, after a time and met new people, and made new friends. He thought about Star every night, but never called on him, because what if it had just been a dream, his brain fevered from the drugs? What if he asked for him and he never came? That would be more than he could stand. He felt too fragile to try.

And then Eric Bittle, Bitty, Bits bounced into his life, his laugh friendly and energetic, his affection as comfortable as a blanket, soft and inviting. He reminded him so much of Star; he wanted to reach out and see if his skin tingled if he glowed soft and golden in the night. But he was afraid. How could Star be here down on Earth, and yet…

And yet.

Too soon and not soon enough it occurred to him that Star may just be a figment of his imagination but Eric orbited him here, on the Earth, with him now and he made him happier than anyone had a right to. He felt as peaceful and safe with Eric as he ever had with an imaginary playmate.

They dated, and they married, they loved, and they wept. They fought and made up, and it always, always felt right even when it was hard or sad. 

Eric’s skin tingled under his touch and shined in the sun from the windows and glistened in the light of the moon. His eyes, not night dark, but brown and kind filled with sparkles and the sunlit forest, the light that’s hidden under the moss and leaves. They didn't hold galaxies, but they contained the whole world in them.

The years passed and Jack retired. He still called Eric Bits and Bits still called him Mr. Zimmermann.

They inherited the old cottage from Jack’s grandparents and eventually moved there.

One night in the meadow, the sound of bird chatter drifting off, Jack lay back on an old blanket, Bits resting his head on his shoulder. The ground damp underneath, he knew they couldn’t stay out long but he wanted to show Bitty the stars, so he traced the constellations with a trembling hand and named the stars and Bitty kissed him, kissed him like they were twenty and twenty-four again and they made love, slowly and gently.

With creaking bones and aching muscles, they made their way back to the cottage, laughter on their lips and hands held.

And years after that Bitty died, and Jack wept. He couldn’t be here he couldn't stay. But he couldn’t go either. One night he sat on the porch and rocked slowly, looking at the ground, refusing to look at the sky, refusing to see the stars anymore.

He must have drifted off because when he awoke the night had deepened and the sky edged with purple and green and even though he didn't want to see, painted sky filled with a million stars, rich and thick and sparkling like jewels, diamonds and rubies and emeralds. 

On the edge of the woods where he had refused to go, something caught his eye. He saw a light weaving and pulsing in and out of the trees, so he pushed himself up out of his chair and shuffled slowly out to the edge of the woods,

He knew who would be there, waiting for him.

And he was.

“Star.”

“Of course it’s me.”

“Where have you been? I thought you said you’d be with me always."

“I have been. Always and always.” And Jack’s eyes widened in surprise, because how could he not know all this time.

“I gave up waiting for you to ask me to come so I came to you instead.” And Bitty held out his hand, and Jack took it, and Bitty’s skin tingled under his touch. Jack felt lighter and happier than he ever had before and Bitty took him through the woods, and they climbed the clouds and up into the sky.

If you look to the west, in the first part of the evening, when the sky is edged with purple and green and just before the birds’ silence their chatter, you will see them.


End file.
